


Don't read this

by ryuukko



Category: Hamilton - Fandom, John Adams (TV), None - Fandom
Genre: Drama, Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, Suspense, u guys r going to hate me I know it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 15:57:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5423129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryuukko/pseuds/ryuukko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jefferson tries to squeeze some info out of his rival. Let's just say it didn't go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Uh oh

If anyone knew, they would mock. This was a foolhardy plan. A cautious hand painted over every give away. Looking back in the mirror was a tall, lanky dame. Red hair hidden under thick white curls. A corset fit to make breathing quite the labor.  
"The mirror tells of a lie in perfect harmony with the song of contempt." Keep it light, flirtatious, and convincing. Posture was not a concern, the only thing left was grace. 

Well, that would have to wait. The party was in session.

\---

Alexander was nursing off of his second bottle of wine. Fascinated with the carbonated nature of the drink, there was little reason for moderation in his mind. It's not like he wanted to be here anyway. This was a formal event and not a would would speak with him, knowing how he would lock them into an intense conversation on his current projects. So he just sat at the bar and drank. He held up the glass to the nearest candle and examined the bubbles fizzling to the top. The islander's addiction to the quill hit like a craving, no one would listen now, maybe they would later. Hearing bits and fragments from other conversations kept his anxiety at bay. If only there was someone who would listen!

 

It was then that a women sky blue dress whisked by. Fragrant as her perfume was, he was enticed with her presence. Was she floating around before? 

"Your mouth is open." 

Alex shook his head and shot a glare at the bartender, who was snickering. Downing the last of his glass, he approached the tall figure. 

“Pardon me Madame, do you have an ear for politics?” He stopped short, just before he stumbled right into the back of the mystery woman’s dress. Resuming correct posture with a hint of clumsiness, none of the other guest seemed to notice. The distinct sound of a fan being uncoiled brought his attention to her porcine face, well, as much as he could see past the red folds. 

“Politics?” She asked in a way that made the islander second guess his method of approach. 

“Ah, erm…yes.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “Politics, do you have any interest in the matter? I may be able to offer thee a hardy discussion.”  
A giggle made Hamilton smile sheepishly. The wine was starting to haze his mind. Like any mirror reflecting the appearance of the tall figure in front of him would tell, he saw a convincing lie.

And fell for it.

 

He dominated the conversation, jumping from one idea to the next. Banks, regulations, opposition, papers, perhaps a bit too much. Alexander’s cheeks flushed an inebriated shade of red. His audience of one listened to every word, took mental notes, and hoped that the information that was sought after would be shared. Alex handed her a few glasses, just to keep her captive in conversation for a bit longer. Ten minutes rolled on to two hours, there was no end in sight. Both were in a drunk haze, Alexander’s eyes began to wonder and he lost his concentration on all that talk of the financial system. Every smile caused his heart to race, heat rose to his face. Suddenly his cravat seemed too tight.

Jefferson woke up with a groan. His head throbbed in pain and, as he soon learned, so did his ass.

A warm body nuzzled into his chest. Peering down he felt his stomach drop.  
The secretary of treasury himself, the same man he tried to get information out of, cuddling into his torso. There was no drunken veil to hide his identity. The moment that man makes sober eye contact with the Virginian, it would be all over. A mirror that looked out of place on the bedside reminded him that. Revealing his red hair and dark freckles, it seemed finished with lying on his behalf. Right next to the bedside was the dress in a heap. Thomas bit his lip and mentally prepared himself to grab it and sprint. Everything hurt from the second he bolted from that mattress. Grasping the fabric of the skirt, he threw the untied fabric over his head and ran out without the heels. Heart bound to burst from his chest, he ran past all of the early morning merchants. Fear ran through his veins, knowing he was running without much of a disguise. It wouldn’t be wise to stop now, he had to push past the crowds and up the stairs to his apartment. Thomas nearly fell on his face, tripping over the wooden floorboard at the foot of the door.  
He managed to stumble to the chamberpot before he could empty his stomach on his new carpet.  
\----  
Alexander fumbled in the entanglement of sheets he was thrown into. “Charlotte!” he called. By the time his head popped out of the blankets, she was gone.

“Damnnit..”  
\--------  
Thomas was greatful for the winter. It was easy to throw on multiple layers, he hadn’t stepped foot in the office of a month and a half.  
Wiping the spit from the corner of his mouth, he moaned in misery. Today was the day he was going to suddenly reappear at work. However, the anxiety from sleep deprivation and a set of oddly familiar symptoms ailed him. The Virginian couldn’t pinpoint the sickness yet.  
Oddly enough, he’s seen it multiple times before and never experienced it for obvious reasons. Reasons that he was unaware were possible.

Splashing water on his face, he finished up his morning routine and headed out the door.  
\--  
“Mr.Jefferson!”  
Thomas sat up straight, snapping out of his thoughts. Washington’s voice sounded so stern! The redhead wanted to cringe for some reason. He agitation boiled in his bosom but he just sighed. 

George raised an eyebrow. “Thomas, you have been absent for four months. I have just gone over your duties you have fulfilled this week and need to next, do you require a rephrasing?” He could see the fatigue in the bags under his fellow statesmen’s eyes. The ginger obviously wasn’t listening. 

“Are you entirely sure that your health is up to working? If you feel ill go home; Rest..”  
Thomas waved him off. It was fruitless, the concerns. Even if they came from Washington. Tom wouldn’t let anybody on. He assured the President that he got the briefing and that he was ok. Pacing down the halls, he sighed. He wanted to hiss in pain, why the hell was his chest hurting? First it was the ankles and now it’s the chest. A dull, persisting pain that distracted him severely.  
Despite this, he hustled back to his room to fill up another chamberpot. Being a clean freak, it was cleaned constantly. Lately he could smell the slightest smells that irritated him, or attracted him. 

Alexander paid him no mind. Strutting right past him, a waft of scents intoxicated Tom, causing the ends of his lips to curve up. His eyes went half lit until the slam of the islander’s office door shook him loose from the distraction. The Virginian shook his head and blushed when he noticed what he was doing.  
\----  
The fifth month was when it started to become challenging to walk. He started paying for a carriage to work. Why was this ridiculous? It was down the block. 

A five minute stroll.

For Thomas, sadness set in like the snow that powdered the Philadelphia streets. He knew what his body was doing. Not to mistaken with understanding, he was aware of the parasite he was stuck with. The morning sickness, swollen ankles, heighten senses, and unreliable bladder. He would never say it out loud. He had a vice grip on the metal railing of the entrance of his office. His stomach was way larger than he ever thought possible, and active. Little taps from the inside felt like a flick over the skin. At first, it made him cringe and cry out. It was all too unusual. Was this what he put Martha through? More than once?  
At least he was there for her. He woke up alone with the day. He couldn’t believe that this was happening. No wonder why Hamilton’s scent was so enticing. He recalled the last, and only time he got unexpectedly up close and personal with the islander. Alexander had coaxed him after a few drinks into a night of drunken passion. Thomas hid his face in his hands remembering the details down to the touch. That night was all a haze, other than fragments. Thomas didn’t care now, there was no going back. Alexander was clueless and he will stay that way. The Virginian considered his options, once this was all over and any thought involving violence or disposal of the child, he felt hot tears well in his eyes. 

How long could he hide this for?  
\------  
Alexander rapped on Thomas’s door. Washington required both of his secretaries at the briefing.  
“Mr.Jefferson! I know you’re not the most diligent of workers but you can at least spare me of your shananaga-“ He was cut off by the sound of dry heaving, metal clanking on the hard wood floor, followed by a surprised yelp. The islander pressed his ear to the door. 

“Mr.Jefferson?”  
The door was unlocked. Alex couldn’t have braced himself for the sight before him. Thomas was out cold on the floor. A chamber pot was rolling on its side past Alex’s feet, leaving a trail of puke. The taller man was curl up in a ball, as if to protect his….stomach? The New Yorker kneeled next to him, seeing no sign of smallpox or any of the epidemics that usually swept through the city around this time of year. He checked his pulse, it was normal. With a closer examination of his face, he started to feel bad about those jabs he made about his rapid weight gain. He couldn’t possibly tell that the man was this stressed. While Jefferson’s health was the last thing on Hamilton’s mind, looking him right in the face evoked some emotion. When Jefferson began to stir, Hamilton didn’t budge. The older man’s eyes flickered back into focus and he began perceiving the world around him. 

“Mr.Jefferson…” Alex trailed off softly, so not to spook the other man. “What are you doing here? You need a doctor you idiot!” 

Thomas’s eyes shot open and he grabbed Alex’s cravat. “Don’t you dare! Nobody can know about this!” his tone went from 0 to 60, flat out cold to fierce. Alex was taken aback by this and couldn’t say anything. Thomas whined and bit his lip. “I-I-I am truly sorry I j-just…” His storm-blue eyes wielded up in tears. “Please! I’ll be hung from the gallows!”

Alex didn’t hear the fear in his voice and dropped the hand on his back. Thomas gasped as he fell back onto the wooden floor. The new yorker’s face expressed nothing but disgust. 

“I don’t know what game you’re playing but I don’t like it.”

Tom’s heart sank at the spite. He desperately wanted to say something.

“Stop looking at me like that!”  
He frowned and struggled to pick is body up. He felt a series of little kicks and he cried out in pain, slumping to the floor. God, he didn’t want to tell the truth.  
“Mr.Jefferson! I demand to know the meaning of this!”

“Alexander! Leave me alone! You’ve done enough…”

He clearly wasn’t satisfied with the response. Continuing to interriogate the poor man, he thought he was going to squeeze an answer from him. Thomas, on the other hand, did not intend on telling him what was going on.  
“Damn you!” Alex threw his hands up in frustration. He wiped one down his face and groaned. Studying the man, there was little he could get from the sobbing mess on the floor. This odd feeling of familiarity crept into his mind. Drawing him in to push Thomas’s hair back, he gasped after a moment. “No…you…it can’t be..”  
Thomas stared past Alex, tears streaming down his ruddy cheeks. “An undercover pl-lan gone wr-rong, I suppose..” He hiccupped in between words. “Don’t look at me! Get out of my office!”


	2. Why am I writing this

Alexander sat in his office, replaying the scene in his mind. Jefferson...was having his children? He had sex with him? 

 

Now seemed like a good time to empty that whisky bottle he kept in his drawer. And by empty he meant to put it to some use. Something in the back of his mind urged him to talk to the older man. He felt guilty. 

While it was disturbing that the Virginian would go to such lengths to spy on him. How the hell did Jefferson ever allow him to bed him? Alex rubbed his face and groaned. His memory was good as any indispensable documentation, but it took some digging to remember the events that occurred after that party. He was giving a great explanation of his political ideas to a complete stranger! And pushed them to drink. By the time Hamilton realized that alcohol lead him down this path, the whiskey bottle was clean empty.  
\---  
The mirror was not a kind conversationalist. It only told the truth. Thomas pealed his shirt and trouser off, which were in desperate need of repair. His stomach would peak out of some of his attire. Gazing into the mirror, he placed his hands over his midsection in disbelief. Something was developing in there. Something was going to come out. 

He might die before he'd see his normal body again. 

Thomas bit his lip, he felt like a freak of nature. There was no other way to put it. Alexander was estranged from his wife but he still had a family. Thomas was in no position for blackmail. If he revealed this to the public...well, it wouldn't be pleasant to imagine what would happen to both of them.   
With a sigh, he turned to see his side. This was the half way mark, no? HHe slipped his nightgown over his head, along with a robe. There's no time for this, he figured. There are letters that require responses.  
\--  
He didn't have the courage to confront Jefferson right now, that's why he left it up to the idiot that got him into this mess. Stumbling over his own feet, Alexander made his way to the apartment.   
"Jefferson! Open th- *HIC* door.." Banging on the door violently, he began to hear shuffling from the other side. And a click.   
Thomas peered from the crack. "Alexander, you're drunk. Go home."

"Poppycock! Yo'r the fat one 'n lemme in."

Thomas scrunched his face up in disgust. "Excuse me?"

"Tommy boy, jus' let me in."

"You came all this way to insult me. I should slam the door an that pointy nose of yours."

"G'sir, you have three seconds before I tell everyon' 'bout this. Let me in!"

Thomas's jaw dropped. That wasn't an idle threat. He unlocked the door and stepped to the side. He placed a hand under his bump, feeling his anxiety rush right to it. He squeezed his eyes shut until it passed. 

Before he knew it, a thin pair of lips were on his. Thomas inhaled sharply in shock, both cheeks cupped into gentle hands. He shivered, attempting to break away. It took quite the effort but he managed to rip away. 

Alexander was drunk as hell. There was no telling what he would do.  
Thomas took a step back, regretting his decision to let the other man into his apartment.   
"Mr.Hamilton, why did you come here?"  
Alexander smiled. "To see you, of course."

"You're a terrible liar. My suffering is most entertaining to you, isn't it? Well, I won't stand for it."

Thomas take his own words quite literally. Every movement was methodical, he held onto the bedpost as he kicked his slippers off. Alex hurried to his side and helped him into the mattress

"Why did you extend your bedpost?"

Thomas paused for a moment before considering responding. All of Hamilton's speech was slurred. Telling him anything would be a waste of time.

The bed post had to about two feet taller than normal. Thomas seemed to have it a grip on getting up. Placing one foot on the side of the wooden board, he hauled his body onto the bed. Alex almost felt winded watching this. Thomas was trying hard not ignore him, Alex could always tell when the man was upset, even if he hadn't been the root of it. This time he certainly was, but this time would be different. 

"Put this under your stomach and lay on your side." Hamilton grabbed a pillow and held it to Jefferson. Thomas looked over his shoulder and grabbed it. 

Alex sat by the bedside for a minute before sighing and shaking his head. "You are a strange man, Mr.Jefferson..."


	3. Waddle waddle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Writers block sucks man :/

Washington wasn't ignorant. He knew what was going on. No man could gain that much weight in such a short period of time. Or have such a hard time moving around because of it. The erratic changes in mood gave it away. He began arranging Tom's meetings to be one-on-one. Last thing George needed was another headliner on his candidacy The ginger's situation was too volatile to endanger, the president needed his mind for this great project that is a new nation. To lighten the load, Washington phased some of his fellow statesmen's duties between Mr.Adams and Mr.Hamilton. So far, neither have complained or noticed.   
However, Thomas still has a job to do. He would just keep an eye on him. At least the feuds between his secretaries lessened.   
\----

Thomas adopted a habit of taking his sweet time to get to work. He no longer awoke with the sun, but the hustle of the morning market two hours later. This made slipping in and past any nosy coworkers easier, for they would already be preoccupied with thief own duties. The first week came with its annoyances, like forgetting how to sit for long periods of time without giving up. His extended midsection made the under part of the desk inaccessible, and lap desks impossible. Crouching over his work applied pressure on his other organs, thus, leading to the armfuls full of new trousers for his office.   
By mid week, Adams returned from his trip to Braintree for his son's wedding. Thomas wrote to him a promising a celebration on his return. Naturally, when the Bostonian knocked on his door, he expected an immediate answer. John never had a sense of subtlety, tapping his cane to the wooden door.   
Thomas flinched at the loud noise. He blinked in confusion, and then recalled why Adams was being so persistent. And only the Bostonian rapped with his cane in hand.   
The Virginian drummed his fingers on the desk, what should he do?  
Another round of knocking roused a decision. He couldn't hide away forever.  
"Took you long enough Tom." He said curtly.

"It's..the seasonal changes. My joints are not kind to me John." 

John raised an brow. "It's the middle of winter..."

"Ay, ay.."

Sweat began to bead down his face, this wasn't going well. 

"Forgive me Mr.Adams, intoxication is not in my best interests tonight, I am preoccupied with a current project."

\---

"You shouldn't slouch like that."

Thomas shot a glare at his fellow secretary. "Who are you, my mother?"

"No, but it is not wise to place unnecessary pressure on your spinal cord like that." Ignoring Tom was all but impossible, habit drew Hamilton into aggravated conversation with the man on a normal basis. Under the current circumstances, Alexander couldn't stray his mind from him. Partially due to the unease that came with the thought of someone possibly finding out. All throughout the meeting, the islander eyed Jefferson, disturbed by his posture. 

"Thomas.."

Thomas got up and walked out of the room.


End file.
